Shades of Jade
by WackaGhoul
Summary: Dean and Sam are sent to locate another unfamiliar Winchester family member who had been torn from an uncertain future and brought to the past for protection.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: As always, I don't own anything in regards to "Supernatural." It's all Mr. Kripke's.

I have no idea where this came from, but if I had to hazard a guess it's probably because I'm missing a non-demon female presence in the "Supernatural" world. (Poor Ellen and Jo.)

Thanks for dropping in and please leave a review! : )

* * *

The road stretched before them, endless and car-less. Just the way Dean liked it. The comforting rumble of the Impala's engine thrummed beneath the driving baseline of an ACDC song. Flat, green fields flanked each side of the flawless blacktop, the road melting with the sky on the distant, unreachable horizon.

Dean glanced at his younger brother. Sam was sitting in the passenger seat, a contented smile gracing his features as the warm summer breeze ruffled his hair. After all they had been through, they deserved this carefree time. It was nice to simply be. Dean grinned to himself, returning his eyes to the road, basking in the calmness of the day. Then, he looked in the rearview mirror.

"Fuck, Cass!" He cried, jerking the wheel. The Impala swerved sharply into the other lane before Dean had the chance to correct their course.

"Hello Dean. Sam."

Dean glared at the angel who still inhabited a body that had, once upon a time, belonged to a man named Jimmy Novak. "Won't you ever learn to knock? You're gonna give me a fucking heart attack one of these days."

The angel tilted his head in confusion as he gazed at the elder Winchester, "Why would I knock when entering an automobile?"

"He's got you there," Sam said smirking at his brother before turning to Castiel, "So, where have you been? It feels like forever since we saw you last."

"I have been busy."

"Oh? How'd it go?" Dean asked, in a bored tone.

"How did what go?"

"Whatever you were doing, Private Pyle."

The reference only served to furrow the angel's brow further, causing him to pause before answering the question. "It's not finished, Dean."

"Then, why are you here?"

"I need your help."

"What?" Sam groaned in disbelief.

"Hey, hey, hey! We're taking a little time off. You know, a little R and R. We were told everything had calmed down!"

Castiel glared at the back of Dean's head, "Well, I'm telling you different."

"And, what is this all important mission?"

"It's your daughter, Dean."

The elder Winchester slammed on the brakes, coming to an abrupt halt in the middle of the empty road. Throwing the Impala into park, he turned to stare at Castiel.

"My what?"

"Your daughter is threatened. The Winchester line is..."

"I don't have a kid, Cass," Dean said, as he shoved Sam, who was beginning to laugh at him, "Have you ever seen any babies crawling around here?"

"I do not believe a twenty-two year-old would be crawl-"

"Twenty-two?" Dean yelled, "What the hell, man? I'd have been like ten-"

"Twelve," Sam interjected.

"Whatever!"

Castiel gave a long suffering sigh, "She is not from this time."

"You couldn't have said that before?"

"You have not let me finish a sentence."

Dean swallowed a few expletives as he crossed his arms and turned back around, "Alright."

"She was sent here for protection. Her original time was no longer safe. I am not certain who or what is after her, but the Winchester bloodline is an...important one. The list of possible suspects is long and varied."

"Did you time warp her?"

"No. Another of my brothers was assigned to her."

"Then, why isn't he protecting her?"

"He's dead," Castiel replied, an edge to his voice.

Dean found himself digging his fingers into his temples. He felt a massive headache coming on. The whole situation was ridiculous. If either of them was ever supposed to be a parent, it would be Sam. He was the loving, caring and all-around girly type. Dean was well...

"I know this is a shock," Castiel said, impatience bleeding into his tone, "but we need to move."

Dean paused a moment longer, then shifted the Impala into drive. "Where to?"

* * *

"Damn car," Constance said, thwacking the dashboard in a vain attempt to get the heat working.

"You shouldn't be so hard on it. I'm surprised this heap actually made it the whole five blocks over here."

She gave her sarcastic passenger a half-hearted glare then laughed, "Yeah, well... Don't expect me or my heap to come pick your butt up after your shift."

"I can walk. I'll even bring you some coffee for when I find you stranded and freezing between here and home."

"Get out," Constance said, playfully shoving the other girl out the door then pulling away.

She was grateful there were only five blocks between the campus bookstore and the house they rented with two other girls. Constance was completely bushed. She had taken four finals today, ending what had been a Hellish week. Finally, winter break had arrived and the first thing Constance planned to do was sleep for at least two days, then maybe take a nap.

Parking on the street in front of the two-story brick colonial, Constance quickly made her way to the door. She zipped up her coat on the way, the freezing air biting at any and all exposed skin. The house was dark, as expected. Amanda and Jen had already left for home. She rooted around in her purse for her house keys, cursing when inconveniently gloved fingers dropped them. A small eternity later found Constance stepping into the house, shutting the cursed door behind her.

Constance managed only to turn on the light and begin removing her red and purple scarf when something struck the side of her face. She toppled over, unprepared for the sudden impact. Trying to figure out what could have possibly fell from the ceiling, Constance looked up.

"Amanda?"

The tall girl grinned, a strange and unfamiliar high-pitched laugh issuing from her throat. Constance looked to her roommate's hand and saw one of the crying clown bookends they had bought Jen as a gag gift on her last birthday. She could only see part of the ridiculous statue's face; the rest was covered in blood.


	2. Chapter 2

Wow, this turned into a really long chapter! So, just to clarify, this does not take place during any specific season. I suppose it kind of takes place at least after season 5 if not sometime after season 6. Basically, whenever Sam and Dean get back to normal... Well, their normal.

I'm trying some different stuff in this story, so it's kind of experimental (for me). I wanted to play around with how I normally tell a story and just the setup and stuff, so we'll see how that goes... lol!

As always, thanks for reading and please leave a review if you get a chance! : )

* * *

"I can't believe any kid of mine would be in college," Dean muttered as the three exited the deserted administration building, making their way back to the car.

Sam fought the urge to roll his eyes. Dean was a lot of things, but stupid was not one of them. For whatever reason, his older brother had decided long ago that academia was not and would never be his thing. Sam would never understand it.

It was oddly quiet. From Sam's college experience, people were still wandering about even at the latest of hours. It was just past ten at night and the campus was deserted. Most of the students and staff gone for the night and for the school's winter break, as Sam had found out while researching prior to their arrival. A brisk breeze blew by, causing Sam to stuff his hands in his pockets. Dean kicked at a small clump of snow, one of the last leftovers from a recent snow shower.

"Any idea where Crimson Glen Avenue is?" Dean asked. Without any real clue as to where this girl was they, meaning Sam, had hacked into the school's computer system in order to find a street address.

"Uh no," Sam said, opening the passenger side door and sliding into the Impala, "but it's probably close by. Most kids stay near campus."

Dean pulled back out on the nearest road and they began scanning the street signs for their desired destination. "Why don't you know where she's at Cass?"

"I was unaware of her existence until recently. The only angel truly well versed in her history was already dead. I was hard pressed to find her general location."

"You don't know anything about her?"

"Dean, I will tell you what I know later. Right now," Castiel paused, glaring out the window. Sam had the distinct feeling that the angel was looking far past the old stone buildings and rows of leafless trees, "we need to find her."

Sam could feel the tension rolling off his brother as they systematically searched each road, slowly moving further out from the center of the school's campus into the surrounding residential area. Dean had been silent most of their trip, so he had no idea how he was dealing with this new revelation. But, if Sam had to guess, he would say that his brother was not coping at all. He seemed to be treating this as any other case, simply performing the tasks and asking the questions that would help them find their mark.

They were only a few blocks away from the administration building when sirens began blaring somewhere off to their right. Two streets up, three police cruisers buzzed past, going at least double the speed limit.

"That's not good," Sam said. As they neared the street, he was able to read "Crimson Glen Ave." on the small green street sign.

"Damn it," Dean said, jerking the wheel to the left and chasing after the squad cars.

Soon a sea of blue and red lights appeared ahead. Dean pulled off to the side of the road, throwing the Impala into park. From the house numbers Sam had been able to catch, the two-story brick that was currently surrounded was more than likely the one they were searching for. The three cop cars they had seen turned out to be city police. They joined a crew of campus cops that appeared to have been here for awhile, as well as an ambulance and what looked like the coroner.

"Cass?" Dean demanded, panic coloring his tone.

His brother did not wait for an answer from the angel, immediately jumping out of the car and slamming the door. Sam hurried after him, barely stopping Dean.

"You can't just run in there."

"Why the Hell not?" Dean asked, struggling against Sam's grip on his jacket.

"We don't know what's going on and we have no legitimate reason to be in there," Dean looked as though he was about to hit him, but Sam continued to hold tight, "Alright, no rational enough reason for all these cops anyways. Dean, we need a plan and-"

"Winchester!"

The voice caused the two brothers to jump, turning towards the sound of the shout.

* * *

"Goddammit, who called you?"

"The neighbors got eyes, Brian. What the Hell's going on? Where's Constance?"

"Whoa! Where do you think you're going Dalia?" he demanded, grabbing her jacket as she attempted to barge past him.

"Let me go," Dalia growled, glaring up at Brian.

She had known the gangly and notoriously uncoordinated campus police officer since her freshman year. Only a few years older than her, Brian had been fresh out of the academy and got stuck working the campus beat. They had struck up an easy friendship almost immediately, but right now she was seriously considering decking the guy.

"You can't go in there; they've got an investigation underway."

"Let me go, now."

Brian sighed, "Dee, listen... You don't want to go in there."

Dalia fought against the rising panic. She managed to wrench her jacket out of his grasp and bolted. The heavy wooden door was flung open, allowing the various detectives and officers to mill in and out unimpeded. There did not seem to be any real chain of command, a general feeling of chaos pervading the area. It was not surprising. This was a sleepy college town and major crime just was not something people saw everyday.

She was able to slip into the house unnoticed and stopped abruptly just inside the entrance, mouth hanging open. Brian had been right; she did not want to see this. Two bodies were sprawled on the tan living room carpet. The first was beyond recognition. Her face and part of her skull appeared to be caved in and whatever would have been left visible was covered in blood. Despite this, Dalia knew who it was once her eyes ghosted over the stupid charm bracelet filled with Disney characters that dangled from the body's wrist. Constance never took it off. Next to her laid Amanda. Surprisingly, the sight of her other roommate was far more disconcerting.

"Who are you?" A gruff voice demanded.

Dalia tore her eyes away from the two bodies and stared directly into the watery brown eyes of a portly and rather pissed off looking man in an ill-fitting brown suit.

"Uh, I live here?" she said lamely, finding it difficult to pay any real attention to the man as her eyes were already drifting back to the bodies on the floor.

"Oh really? Well good, that saves us the trouble of tracking you down. I'm sure someone will want to talk to you." The man said, grabbing at Dalia's arm and dragging her back out the door and across the small yard. She went without complaint, her ability to think left somewhere between the door and the living room. "Stay here." The man grumbled, shoving her down onto the small stone wall that wrapped around the property.

She sat in silence, unable to string together any kind of coherent thought. Her mind seemed to have shut off, leaving what amounted to white noise. Dalia was barely aware of the cold winter breeze slowly seeping in through her jacket the longer she sat. She took no notice of the freezing stone beneath her fingers. She was not even sure how long she sat there before someone else came up to her.

"Dalia Winchester? My name's Officer Pattock and I need to ask you a few questions."

Looking up, Dalia was distantly pleased to find that this was not pissed off brown suit guy. Instead, he had been replaced by a ruddy faced man with short salt and pepper hair and a bushy black mustache. She nodded at him to continue.

He gave her a sympathetic smile before speaking, "I'm sure this is the last thing you want to do right now, but-"

"It's fine." she sighed. Dalia was more than well versed in the methods of cops and other public officials. "You're only doing your job."

He nodded, "Where were you earlier tonight?"

"Work. Over at the campus bookstore. We where doing inventory before most of the staff left for break." Dalia eyed him warily, "There are at least ten other people who can confirm I was there if that's what you're driving at."

Officer Pattock raised an eyebrow, "It seems like you've done this before." Dalia grimaced, but did not answer. "Do you know of any animosity between uh," he paused and flipped through his notebook, "Constance Fellner and Amanda Bley?"

"No, everything was fine. Actually, I'm not even sure why Amanda's here."

"What do you mean?"

Dalia's eyes wandered past the detective in front of her to two men standing only a few feet off. Both were far younger than the officer talking to her, but they were older than her. The shorter one looked like he was in his thirties. She assumed the two were some type of cop because they seemed to be listening in on their conversation while sporatically having a slightly heated one of their own. She looked back to Officer Pattock.

"Amanda was supposed to be at least two states over by now, on her way home. I dropped her off at the airport earlier this morning. I even watched her walk through security."

He made note of that as the two other men, apparently having resolved their differences, came to stand next to Officer Pattock.

"Had Amanda been acting depressed lately? Any strange mood swings or sudden changes in habits?"

"No," Dalia said, glancing at the newcomers that Officer Pattock seemed determined to ignore. The shorter one was giving her the oddest look. "Uh, actually, she was freakishly happy and upbeat. It was kind of annoying... You guys don't think she did this do you?"

"That's the general consensus: murder-suicide."

"That's not possible."

"What makes you say that?" It was the taller guy with shaggy brown hair and dark brown eyes; the second half of the out of place duo.

"There wasn't a mark on Amanda. There was no gun, no knife, no nothing. The only thing that was nearby was that ugly as sin clown bookend someone used to..." she stopped, unable to say 'kill Constance with.' Shaking her head, she continued indignantly, "Well, what the Hell was Amanda supposed to have done to herself with that?" Dalia sighed as all three of them were now giving her weird looks. "You're telling me no one else questioned that?"

None of them answered her and Dalia rolled her eyes. This was the problem with the police. They never seemed to notice what was right in front of their face. Or they didn't care, which was usually the case whenever Dalia had dealt with the authorities in the past.

"Well, what do you think happened?" the one she had mentally dubbed 'Stretch'. He seemed genuinely curious.

She never got to answer. "And, who may I ask are you two?" Officer Pattock had apparently decided to finally acknowledge their existence and he sounded none to happy about it.

"I'm Detective Osbourne and this is my partner, Detective Iommi," Dalia couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at that as she watched the shorter guy who was giving her the stink eye before indicate Stretch as they flashed their badges. Apparently they were plain-clothed Federal agents. "We just arrived and were told you could brief us on what's happening here."

"Well, gentlemen, I'm kind of in the middle of something-"

"I'm sorry Officer...?"

"Pattock," he replied in a less than gracious tone.

"Right, well I'm afraid I'm going to have to insist." Detective Osbourne said with a smile.

Officer Pattock gave a furious glance at both detectives as well as Dalia and then stocked off with Osbourne. She was surprised that the officer had given her such a hateful look and she was even more surprised when Detective Iommi sat down next to her. This had somehow turned into one crazy fucked-up night and she had a bad feeling it had not really hit her yet. But, it would...

"Are you alright?"

Dalia laughed darkly, "Oh sure. I've got two dead friends in my living room. I'm just peachy." Stretch gave her an apologetic glance and shrugged slightly. She immediately felt bad for flinging the sentiment back at him; he did actually seem to care for some reason. Grinning at him, she changed the subject, "So, Iommi is it?"

"Yeah."

"Tell me, you think you and Osbourne will ever get the band back together?"

Stretch looked panic stricken for a moment, his big brown eyes going wide, but he recovered quickly, "W-What?"

Dalia laughed in earnest, "You'd think you super secret agent types would pick better fake names, because I'd say it's one heck of a coincidence to have two guys who share the same last names as two Black Sabbath members partnered up."

He continued to stare at her and she shook her head. She was pretty sure she liked whoever this guy actually was.


End file.
